


To Chaos Runs Starlight

by maeinfin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, Lactation Kink, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Sex Pollen, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeinfin/pseuds/maeinfin
Summary: When the Master is blasted with sex pollen, he turns to his best enemy for help. However, neither of them expected her pet to be there or to refuse to leave the Doctor's side. How far will Yaz go to help the Doctor save the Master's life?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan/The Master (Dhawan), Yasmin Khan/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 86





	To Chaos Runs Starlight

Although Yaz loved exploring alien planets with her Fam, she hadn’t argued when Graham suggested they take a rare lazy Sunday off from the usual chaos. For weeks, Yaz had been putting off revising for her second year ‘Ethics, Morality and the Law in Emergency Situations’ exam, so being stuck in the TARDIS in the time vortex seemed like a good way to make sure she finally got on with it. Her procrastination baking at home had already driven Sonya to snap. Apparently sourdough naan wasn’t a real thing and even if they were, a family of four couldn’t eat a hundred of them.

In hindsight, Yaz should’ve suspected a quiet day off was never going to happen when the Doctor was around and that Sunday was no exception. In fact, everything they'd been through together paled in comparison. While their trips were sometimes death-defying, often life-affirming and always involved the whole Fam in some capacity, this was an afternoon that Yaz could never forget. Even if she wanted to.

Yaz was re-reading the same page for the third time when the TARDIS alarms started blaring. She’d looked up from her textbook just in time to see an unconscious figure shimmer and then solidify with a thump onto the console room floor.

“Doctor, I thought you fixed the TARDIS so things can’t get in anymore!” Yaz’s highlighters went scattering across the floor as she dashed forward to get a closer look. As she neared the intruder, she realised two things. Firstly, they were twitching and grunting on the floor as if possessed and secondly, it was the lunatic who’d tried to kill her and her Fam, who was last seen on Gallifrey and -

“You said he was dead,” Yaz knew her tone was accusatory but the Doctor wasn’t listening. She was kneeling on the floor, waving her sonic screwdriver over the Master’s convulsing form. The Doctor’s tongue was sticking out in that way that meant she was already three steps ahead and Yaz was going to have to follow first and comprehend later.

Squinting down at the readings on her sonic screwdriver, the Doctor’s brow wrinkled into a frown. Before Yaz could repeat herself, Ryan and Graham stumbled into the console room. They both looked like they’d been caught napping by the TARDIS alarm bells.

“At last! There you two are,” the Doctor tutted.

“Sorry, Doc,” Graham panted, “These corridors get longer every day.”

“What’s the emergency?” Ryan bounded round the console, almost tripping over the Master who had stopped fitting and now looked like he’d simply passed out. Yaz wondered if this was part of some scheme of his; pretend to be dozing and then steal the TARDIS when they turned their backs. Surely the Doctor wasn’t that naive?

“Am I seeing things or is ‘e not as dead as you said ‘e was?” Graham grumbled.

“Yaz already mentioned that,” the Doctor replied, exasperated, “Weren’t you listening?”

Before Graham could reply, the Doctor grabbed the still unconscious Master by a floppy arm and yanked him roughly upwards. Yaz watched as his head rattled satisfyingly along the metal of the TARDIS floor.

“Come on, Fam. Help me get him to his bedroom,” the Doctor pleaded, as she dragged his body inch by inch towards the corridor that led into the TARDIS’ living quarters.

“Come on, Grandad,” Ryan was the first to snap into action, slinging the Master’s other arm over his shoulder. Graham hurried round to grab his legs, leaving Yaz as the only person remotely concerned about the presence of a genocidal maniac onboard the ship.

“What do you mean ‘his’ bedroom?” Yaz asked as she stumbled after them.

“It’s more of an office really. She only slept there when she wanted to punish me. Which to be fair, was most of the time so maybe it is a bedroom,” the Doctor replied.

Yaz wasn’t sure if it was her hearing or the TARDIS alarms that were adding to her confusion. It was apparent that the Doctor’s ability to explain something at length and still make no sense hadn’t been hampered by the effort of dragging along an unconscious body. Yaz had asked about the Master having a bedroom so who was ‘she’ the Doctor was talking about? And why was the Doctor helping him instead of frisking him? Yaz was starting to suspect the Doctor wasn’t so much a forgiving person, as much as she was someone who lived in constant denial that there was anything to forgive in the first place.

“Grab his hand, will you, Yaz? Hold it up to his name,” the Doctor was panting roughly now. They hadn’t walked far but Yaz was sure she’d never passed this door on the way to the console room before. It was dark brown, ornate and very imposing. There were no handles; instead there were large, beautiful circles engraved into its wood. Yaz couldn’t see anything that looked like ‘Master’ to her, but there was a cluster of smaller swirls in the centre.

The Master’s hand was limp and clammy. She bent his wrist round awkwardly and pressed his palm against the ornate, patterned wood. With an ominous click, the door swung heavily inwards to reveal a large dark blue room, lined with bookshelves. An enormous grand piano and a table full of abandoned mechanical trinkets took up most of the space. In the centre of the room, against the far wall, was a large bed neatly made up with dark purple linen.

“Doctor, whose room is this?” said Yaz as the Doctor and Ryan struggled past to dump the Master’s prone body onto the bed.

“I already said it’s the Master’s. Now _you’re_ not listening either!” the Doctor was lucky Yaz already knew what she was like, because most people would’ve thought she was plain rude. Yaz’s fond smile morphed into a cry of alarm when the Master started flailing on the bed. His hands were no longer limp and pliable, but clenched into fists that windmilled wildly as his body twitched and jerked. It was terrifying.

“Alright, alright,” the Doctor sounded soothing even as she leapt violently on top of him, pinning his body down with her weight. The Master froze, and as she pressed her hands gently against his cheeks, he sagged back against the bed, seemingly placated for the moment.

“Doc? What’s happening to him?” said Graham, hovering anxiously behind Ryan and Yaz.

“There's something in his bloodstream and it's attacking him. If I don’t stop it, he’ll die,” the Doctor said, still lying flat on top of the Master, “And I need to do this alone.”

“Only if you’re sure, Doc,” Graham looked worried but turned towards the door, nodding at Ryan to follow. Yaz however, couldn’t help herself. It’s not that she didn’t trust the Doctor. She didn’t trust _him_.

“Doctor, I’m not being funny but should you even be helping him?” Yaz glared down at the Master who has started whimpering now. His face was scrunched up as if in pain.

“Oh, Yaz, always. When people need help, I never refuse,” the Doctor’s eyes were full of conviction, “Even when it’s the Master. Especially when it’s the Master. Now, everyone out!”

The Master’s head was flung back and he was hissing painfully through gritted teeth. Whatever was happening to him was getting more urgent.

“No,” Yaz was defiant, “You left us behind before and you’re not doing it again. I’m staying.” Her voice was steadier than she felt. After that last time on Gallifrey, thinking she’d lost the Doctor forever, Yaz couldn’t let her do this alone again. Whatever _this_ was.

A silence fell over the room, broken only by the Master starting to twitch again, despite the Doctor’s weight still on him. The strangled cry he made when he suddenly arched up seemed to cement something for the Doctor.

“Fine. Yaz stays but you two, go. Now!” the Doctor snapped at the boys. At this, Graham nodded and hurried towards the door without another word. Ryan followed, pausing only to cast a worried look back at Yaz who shrugged in response. The wooden door shut heavily behind them both.

Suddenly, Yaz felt her confidence drain away. What if this was an elaborate trick? What exactly would she do if the Master turned on them in a murderous rage? Again. She turned to the Doctor, ready to beg her again to reconsider or at least let Yaz fetch her handcuffs, but the Doctor didn’t seem concerned in the slightest.

She was kneeling on the bed, tugging the Master’s purple jacket off him. With his arms momentarily trapped behind him, he looked a little like a dying fish before he was freed from his sleeves and flopped onto his stomach with a gasp. Yaz had to admit it was rather gratifying to see him so helpless. There was a large black device on his wrist but before Yaz could shout 'bomb' and throw herself over the Doctor, the blonde had unfastened it and dropped it onto the floor. It didn’t explode.

“Vortex manipulator,” the Doctor said with a judgmental grimace, “Similar to the one Krasko had in Alabama. Can you help me with the rest? He’s overheating and it’ll be easier.”

 _What_ would be easier, Yaz wanted to ask, and why didn’t the TARDIS stop him being travelling in like that, but the Master’s arms swung round again and Yaz realised she was unlikely to get any answers while the Doctor had some half-baked plan at work. She huffed silently and resigned herself to blindly helping a lunatic who not so long ago had tried to kill her in a plane crash. Still, that didn’t mean Yaz couldn’t make a point of digging her knee sharply into where she thought the Master’s kidney might be, even as she wrestled his waistcoat and shirt off him.

When Yaz finally turned back to the Doctor, all the fear she felt towards the Master evaporated and a different kind of horror set in. The Doctor was naked from the waist down, wearing only her long grey coat, her rainbow t-shirt and a bright smile.

“Probably for the best the boys didn’t stay,” the Doctor beamed as she climbed onto the bed again. Rolling the now topless Master back onto his back, she settled herself on his thighs, “They’d probably think this is really weird. Is it really weird?”

Yaz didn’t know what to say. It _was_ weird and she still didn’t know what _it_ actually was in the first place. Before Yaz could ask, the Doctor had reached out to the Master’s forehead and had started murmuring.

“I’m here. Yaz is here too,” the Doctor’s eyes were closed. Yaz leaned closer. Was the Doctor talking to herself? Surely the Master couldn’t hear her. As she mumbled away, his face slackened into calm again. Yaz turned back to the Doctor, about to congratulate her on whatever she’d done but the words dried up in her throat.

The Doctor had unzipped the Master’s trousers and his cock sprung free and erect. Yaz dimly heard her own shrieks of horror being drowned out by the sounds of the Master moaning in relief. The Doctor lifted herself up and sank down onto his lap with a soft groan of her own. The coat covered the Doctor’s lower half from Yaz’s view but from the look of concentration on her face, Yaz could hazard a wild guess at what was happening beneath.

The Doctor started rocking slowly back and forth. The Master was still moaning softly but now, the sounds were pure pleasure. Irritation hit Yaz sharply and she fought to keep her eyes on the Doctor’s face instead of allowing them to snap downwards. The Doctor’s shoulders were moving in steady waves, which implied her hips were making the same rhythmic movements where she was joined with the Master. Police observation training was really paying off here, Yaz thought hysterically.

“I expect you’ve got questions,” said the Doctor, looking far calmer than the situation called for.

Yaz breathed in sharply. She’d passed her Situational Awareness module with top marks last year. First, take note of what’s happening. Second, work out why it’s happening.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yaz hoped she sounded unfazed. This was just like dealing with the hen-dos in town on a Friday night. Some of those nights involved women wearing a lot less than the Doctor was now. Professionalism was key.

The Doctor maintained her slow rocking even as she replied, “There’s a few different possibilities. I can’t be sure what the exact cause is until I take a blood sample but that will have to wait-”

“So what’s your best guess?” snapped Yaz, surprising herself when she heard how brittle her own voice sounded. The strain of not looking was getting to her.

“Poisoned with an alien plant species. A deadly one. I’m not sure which flower specifically but they all work more or less the same way,” answered the Doctor quickly. She sounded a little stung at Yaz’s harsh tone.

“And what’s this about?” Yaz gestured vaguely downwards, clinically.

“The pollen wants to force procreation so it gets into the bloodstream and it causes the body to overheat unless you go along with it. It’s a little rudimentary but really quite effective,” the Doctor somehow sounded awed, despite her half-naked predicament, “If you don't do it, your organs get a bit toasty and eventually you die.”

Yaz gaped at that, unable to maintain any facade of professionalism in the face of her shock, “Doesn’t he have someone else to do that? Couldn’t he _make_ someone else do that?”

“Why would he do that?” the Doctor’s nose scrunched up in confusion. Her hips were still moving in those steady waves that Yaz was still very pointedly not looking down at.

“Because he calls himself the Master?” Yaz said, “Because he tried to kill us? Because he killed everyone on your home planet? He said he was your greatest enemy.”

“ _Best_ enemy,” corrected the Doctor primly. For a second, Yaz thought the Doctor would have more to say but instead, her eyes had glazed over and she was no longer looking at Yaz, but gazing down at the Master. She was clearly not that bothered about continuing this conversation or about all the mass murdering he had done.

Yaz was stumped. She doesn’t know what to say to stop this happening and besides, it was _already_ happening and she was starting to suspect it had happened before. The Doctor’s movements had changed. She was now bobbing up and down, presumably on the Master’s erection. A voice in Yaz’s brain was screaming that the two most attractive people she’d met in her entire life were actually having sex and she was getting a front row view.

The Master was still whimpering, but painfully now, and Yaz nervously realised he was getting louder. Whatever the Doctor was doing wasn’t enough and if she was so determined to help the Master, Yaz would help her.

“What can I do?” Yaz asked decisively.

The Doctor didn’t break her rhythm even though her voice was full of surprise, “Yaz, you don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to be here.”

Before Yaz could argue, the Master whimpered again. He had bitten through his lower lip. The Doctor looked down and sighed, “Put your fingers in his mouth. It’ll distract him and it should speed things up.”

“I hope he doesn’t bite my fingers off,” Yaz joked lamely, only half-meaning it.

“Nah, he won’t!” the Doctor hummed, “Probably not. Maybe?”

At that, Yaz fought back a laugh. Even in this bizarre situation, the Doctor was still her usual wildly optimistic, reassuringly unreassuring self. With Master now thrashing around again, Yaz clambered onto the bed alongside them. She leant her back against the headboard and pulled his head into her lap. At least that way she could clamp his head still and maybe accidentally poke an eyeball if he got too much.

Unfortunately for Yaz, it was also a position that gave her a perfect view of the Doctor’s lower half as she bounced up and down. The long coat flapped open in a perfect flutter around the Doctor’s body, drawing Yaz’s gaze downwards.

You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met, thought Yaz as she caught a glimpse of neatly trimmed curls and the Doctor’s own wetness gleaming on the Master’s cock. Yaz realised with a shock that the Doctor was actually aroused and even more shockingly, her own hand was on her clit, moving urgently against herself.

A grunt from the Doctor sent Yaz’s eyes snapping back upwards, mortified that she’d been caught staring but the Doctor’s eyes were closed and her head was thrown backwards. She looked entirely blissed out and uncaring of either Yaz in front of her or the Master beneath her.

Yaz didn’t know where to look. The floor would probably have been fine or she could have closed her eyes, but she found herself drawn to the Doctor’s flushing cheeks and the way her mouth opened in a silent cry as her orgasm hit.

The Doctor stilled and sagged downwards, collapsing onto the Master’s chest. Beneath her, with his eyes still closed, he thrusted up once, twice and let out a gentle grunt before collapsing back into the mattress. His head rolled loosely over Yaz’s crossed legs. They were both panting softly.

Yaz stared down at their heads for a second but when neither of them moved, she had to ask, “Is that it? Is it over?”

She wasn’t sure if she felt disappointed or relieved. A part of her wanted to watch the Doctor like that forever. Maybe without the coat and definitely with her eyes open. Before the Doctor could reply, the Master giggled wildly. Suddenly, he was lucid and terrifying all over again, even with the Doctor slumped on top of him.

“My dear, it’s only the beginning,” he hissed up at Yaz before his tongue darted out to lick her fingers. Yaz shrieked and pulled them against her chest but in the same instant, the Master faded away. It was the reverse of what had happened on Barton’s aeroplane. He suddenly looked like O again, soft and sweet. His eyes fluttered closed and the quiet whimpers started again. At his moans grew and deepened, the Doctor pushed herself up and started rocking back and forth again, still seated on his cock.

“What does he mean it’s only beginning?” ask Yaz, “Didn’t it work?”

“It doesn’t usually take on the first round,” the Doctor replied.

“Take?” Yaz frowned, “Hang on, Doctor. Earlier, you said procreation. Does that mean it won’t end until you and him-?” She couldn’t say it out loud.

“What?” the Doctor said “What? No! Time Lords do that differently. Time Ladies, I mean. Though those bits doesn’t actually make a difference. That’s an artificial process and really quite complicated. The problem is these plants don’t adapt to the needs of individual species. It’s sort of a one-fits-all attitude. It’s not very clever if you think about it. If I were a reproduction-obsessed plant species, I’d have a few more tricks up my sleeve.”

Yaz nodded, now unsure what else to ask or if she ought to leave after all. It did seem like the Doctor had the whole thing under control and she was still rambling away so clearly in her usual state of mind. Yaz looked down and realised she was still cradling the Master’s head in her lap. Her hand felt hot from where he’d licked her.

“And when you said to put my fingers in his mouth?” she asked, “Would that help?”

The Doctor gave her a long look, as she started to bounce again on the Master’s erection, “It might. It might not. Mutual orgasms seem to speed the whole thing up. I reckon it’s to do with the increased pheromones but I’ve never managed to do a proper analysis while it’s still active. I always mean to but then the moment passes,” The Doctor trailed off with a pleased grunt of her own as she slammed her hips down with increasing vigour.

Yaz stared down at the Master’s mouth. When he’d been O, the exhilaration of the motorcycles and his arms wrapped tightly round her waist as they raced after Barton, had made him seem briefly, wildly attractive for the space of an afternoon.

“Yaz, I’ll be fine. Go wait with the boys, ” the Doctor panted roughly, interrupting Yaz from her thoughts, “Might take a while though. The Master had to spend three weeks with me once. He was so angry about it. He had postpone taking over Tarsus VIII and then I stopped him anyway.”

The Doctor looked so fond at the memory that Yaz felt a strange feeling rise up within her. The thought of the Doctor staying in here, having sex with the Master for three weeks or more, made Yaz’s skin prickle.

That brief glimpse of the Doctor’s orgasm had been intoxicating, Yaz realised. She wanted to see it again and again and she didn’t see why the Master should get that privilege. Without a second thought, she shoved her fingers into the Master’s mouth.

Almost instantly, the tension drained out from his upper body and his shoulders melted against her thighs. His tongue lapped hotly at her fingers before sucking at them without finesse. His eyes were open and clear for the briefest of seconds. He winked at her before fading away again.

“Does he know what’s happening? It’s like he’s there but then...” Yaz trailed off uncertainly.

“He knows. There are moments of calm, when there’s a burst of hormones. They’re good moments to say hello,” she grunted as the Master suddenly thrusted up again, “Like now. There you are!”

“Doctor”, the Master mumbled around Yaz’s fingers.

“I’m here,” the Doctor reached out a hand to his, “And so’s Yaz.” He squeezed back weakly before his arm dropped heavily back onto the bed.

The Doctor lifted herself off the Master’s lap with a tiny wince, “Right. That was the second one so that should’ve taken the edge off. He should be okay for a minute or two." Yaz was trying not to gawp too obviously but she could tell the exertion was getting to the Doctor. Her face was flushed and her blonde hair had clumped in sweaty strands on her cheeks.

“You should take your coat off,” Yaz heard herself saying. It was like another person was speaking for her. The Doctor nodded and without a second thought, her coat and t-shirt flew towards the floor. Suddenly, she was only wearing a plain black wired bra.

The Doctor turned back towards the Master and started tugging at his belt. Pulling his boxers and trousers down in one swift move, they tangled up in his shoes, leaving the Doctor huffing and fighting against his laces. Her bra was a siren call against her pale skin and once again, Yaz had to force herself to glance away. Her eyes roamed back down to the Master.

Passed out and topless with his trousers round his ankles, he looked like a regular debauched human who’d had too many drinks and gotten on the wrong side of one of those Sheffield hen-dos. He also looked like O whose cleverness had impressed her and who been dorky in a charming way. Like an attainable, human version of the Doctor.

As Yaz marvelled at how different O’s expressions was from the Master’s, his eyes crinkled beneath her gaze into a fretful grimace. The reprieve from his second orgasm had passed and the Master’s hips were now jerking helplessly into the air. Even after two orgasms, his erection was still pointing urgently upwards. The only difference was that now, it was slick and shiny. Yaz reached out unthinkingly and wrapped her hand around his cock, feeling her fingers slide in the wetness the Doctor had left behind.

The Master groaned and whined appreciatively. Struggling with the awkwardness of their position, Yaz shoved upwards at his shoulders, pushing the Master upright and then scooting herself closer so that he could slump back against her chest. His breath was coming out in soft pants now and his cock was hot and heavy in her hand.

They must have made a surprising sight to the Doctor, who had finally won her battle against the Master’s shoelaces and was climbing back onto the bed to settle over the Master’s thighs. She looked down at Yaz’s hand, whose palm was gliding stickily over the rock-hard erection between them.

“Brilliant, fearless Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor’s admiring grin sent tingles straight into Yaz’s heart. She couldn’t help but smile back, even as the Master thrust noisily into her hand. His weight was heavy against her and his head flopped backwards onto Yaz’s shoulder as if he was nuzzling into her neck.

With her right hand on his cock and her left arm wrapped around his torso, holding him up against her, it was getting harder for Yaz to remember the man in her arms was an insane megalomaniac. Especially when his mouth was sucking feverishly on her neck and his eyes were drowsy with a soft texture that made Yaz wonder how lovely that lustful expression would have looked on O. Suddenly, the heat of the Master’s wet tongue on her skin disappeared when two hands reached out to pull him away from her.

The Doctor’s bra had disappeared, leaving her entirely naked. Her hands were cradling the Master’s face as she drew him to her bare breasts. With a soft sigh, he wrapped his mouth eagerly around a pink nipple. The Doctor shifted closer on his lap, holding him firmly against her and uncaring that Yaz’s hand, which was still palming the Master’s erection was suddenly brushing against the Doctor’s damp curls.

“Do you want to...?” Yaz mumbled, utterly flustered. She didn’t know exactly how to offer the erection up to the Doctor and so, ended up waving it round mutely like a magic wand at the Doctor’s navel.

“No, you carry on as you are,” the Doctor had two hands in the Master’s hair and seemed to be giving him a scalp massage, judging by his quiet, blissful moans. She continued cheerfully, “You’re doing great, Yaz. You’re really helping me concentrate.”

The Doctor tapped her free breast with a finger before resting her hand back on the Master’s head. Confused, Yaz glanced down at the Doctor’s erect, pink nipple. Before she could ask what the Doctor need to concentrate on, the Master ejaculated without warning over the Doctor’s stomach.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realise he was-” Yaz reached out, horrified, and swiped her palm at the streaks of white cum on the Doctor’s stomach. As she did, something dripped onto her fingers, joining with the Master’s cum in thin creamy rivulets.

Stunned, Yaz tracked the watery droplets upwards. The Master had pulled off the Doctor’s breast and his mouth was hanging open. He was panting softly, his eyes were wide and bloodshot and there was something that looked like milk dribbling down his chin. He caught Yaz’s stunned gaze with another infuriating wink.

“Jealous?” he smirked.

“Master,” the Doctor pinched his ear. The movement seemed almost patronising, but the Master only grinned wider. It was like looking into the mouth of a wolf.

As his tongue swiped out to capture an errant droplet from the Doctor’s nipple, he glanced back at Yaz and said with a surprising lack of malice, “Time Lord biology. We’re far superior to you humans.”

The Doctor huffed and took over his explanation, “We have more control over certain processes. There’s some things we can turn on and off when we need to. You should see me free-diving. I don’t know how you humans manage actually. You’re incredible really, even though-” She was interrupted by the Master sighing deeply and sagging heavily against the Doctor.

“Hush,” the Doctor crooned at him gently and guided him back to her breast. Even with his mouth latched tightly onto her, Yaz could tell his tongue was moving gently over her nipple as he started to suck again. His long lashes fluttered shut as his cheeks pulsed and hollowed.

As Yaz watched, the Master’s jaw slowed into a hypnotic, peaceful rhythm. She could’ve gazed at him like that forever. The Doctor’s voice seemed to fade out against the gentle pattern of the Master sucking, swallowing and sighing softly in turn.

The Doctor kept talking, oblivious to Yaz’s lack of attention, “The pheromones should help speed things up and it’s a good way to stay hydrated. The last time I got blasted like this, I ended up with a terrible headache. I should’ve asked the boys to make us some tea! Though Graham’s iced tea isn’t half as good as mine.”

Her rambling continued but her eyes were drifting shut too. The Doctor had shifted slightly so she was now grinding herself gently on one of the Master’s thighs but strangely, Yaz didn’t feel compelled to look down anymore. Her attention was entirely on the Master’s mouth latched on the Doctor’s breast. Yaz watched as a shudder of pleasure ran through the Doctor, making her breasts shake as she tightened her grip on the Master’s head and pulled him even closer. His arms were draped loosely round her waist and his expression was peaceful.

Yaz was utterly captivated. She'd never have thought someone like the Master could look like that. Like the urgency threatening his body didn't matter anymore. Like he knew he was safe with the Doctor, despite everything. Because of everything. The room was silent, aside from the occasional sound of suction from the Master’s lips and the Doctor’s corresponding hums as she rocked on his thigh.

It felt like an age later when the Master’s hips jerked up involuntarily, knocking his erection against Yaz’s loose, forgotten hand. He was hard again and there was pre-cum beading on his cock-head. When she looked back up at his face, his eyes were half open and she would’ve sworn he was smirking except his mouth was still suckling hungrily.

Numbly, Yaz started jerking him off again but as her hand stroked upwards, the backs of her fingers brushed against the Doctor where her body was pressed against the Master’s. Feeling her own heartbeat accelerate, Yaz took her time sliding her hand along the Master’s sensitive skin, wondering if the Doctor would shift back.

Instead, with her eyes still closed and her hands still tangled in the Master’s hair, the Doctor only seemed to lean closer until her neatly trimmed hairs pricked against Yaz’s fist. It felt like time had slowed down, as Yaz watched her own small hand glide up and down between their bodies. It was only when the Master let out a long, needy groan that the Doctor finally opened her eyes and pulled away.

“Right, let’s get a shift on,” the Doctor’s pupils were wide and unfocused. She gently unlatched the Master from her nipple. He whimpered at the loss, but the Doctor didn’t stop. In one swift move, she pushed him gently so he tipped backwards against Yaz, placed her hands on his shoulders and sank back down onto his cock with a relieved sigh until...

“Yaz?” the Doctor was looking at her quizzically. Yaz blinked and followed the Doctor’s gaze downwards between her legs. Yaz’s fist was still wrapped tightly around the Master’s erection. The very tip of her thumb was pressing into the delicate flesh where the Doctor’s entrance grasped hotly around his cock.

Horrified, Yaz yanked her hand back but at this sudden unexpected move, the Master’s weight shifted against her. As he wavered, the Doctor wobbled and Yaz could only watch as her hand moved with a mind of its own. It reached out to clutch onto the Doctor’s waist, steadying her until she was fully seated on the Master’s erection.

The Doctor’s skin was cool under her palm. When Yaz pulled her hand back, she was struck by the handprint she’d left behind on the Doctor’s hip. The sight of the Master’s drying cum smeared on the Doctor’s pale skin in the shape of Yaz’s own hand was strangely mesmerising.

When the Doctor started riding him again, it was now a familiar sight, which allowed Yaz’s braincells to kick back into gear.

“Why can’t we just jerk him off?” she asked, “Wouldn’t that have the same effect?”

“We tried that before. It never worked and there didn’t seem much point not considering our his- “ The Doctor was interrupted by the Master groaning painfully. For a moment, he had seemed sedated with licking his own cum off Yaz’s fingers but with that done, his agonised whimpers had started up again.

“His body’s adapted. Budge up,” the Doctor was sweating profusely now. She shoved at the Master’s chest and Yaz scrambled out of the way so that the Master could flop flat backwards onto the mattress. With her hands pressed against his chest, the Doctor was now riding him at an impressive speed, despite the Master’s hips bucking underneath her urgently. His hands were curled on his fists in the bedsheets beside him. Yaz could only stare as his next orgasm seemed to make no difference either to the frenzy he was in or the pace the Doctor was setting.

How much longer could the Doctor do this for? Yaz looked down at the Master’s gritted teeth and in a flash, she pulled her own t-shirt off, removed her bra and squeezed her breast into the Master’s mouth. If something would help the Doctor, no matter how crazy, Yaz would do it.

Instead of sucking, the Master’s tongue swirled around Yaz’s nipple with the occasional gentle bite. Despite herself, Yaz could feel herself becoming aroused. It didn’t help that the warmth of his hands on her body reminded her of the way O had leaned against her at Barton's party and how O'd hair had brushed against her cheek when he'd teased her at the card table. Keen not to ponder any longer on that memory, Yaz’s eyes flicked back towards the Doctor and she realised belatedly that her new position, lying almost flat on the mattress over the Master, also gave her a remarkably close-up view of the Doctor’s glistening labia.

The naked blonde was now doing swirls with her hips as if hula-hooping on his cock. The Master had quietened down at last and Yaz watched as he thrusted up into the Doctor with a relieved grunt. When Yaz looked down at him beneath her, his eyes were clear but he lacked his usual menace this time.

“Hi Yaz,” his eyes were soft with charm. With a sharp pang, Yaz realised that maybe she had fancied O a bit, before he turned out to be batshit evil.

“Hi,” she replied weakly. Further down the bed, Yaz could sense the Doctor shifting around and the mattress wobbled as she reached over to the bedside drawer by Yaz.

“Aha!” beamed the Doctor triumphantly, “Remember this? Missy’s favourite.” She waved a purple object in the Master’s eye-line. As he was still teasing Yaz’s nipples with tugs and bites, this meant that Yaz also got an eyeful of the large, silicone strap-on the Doctor was holding up. It was the same shade as the Master's jacket. Yaz was starting to suspect who Missy was and it wasn’t leading her towards a happy conclusion.

There was a clunk as the Doctor flung the toy back into the drawer and then, the sounds of something wet slicking over skin intensified until Yaz finally gave in to curiosity and tilted her gaze back towards the source. The Doctor had her ‘working on something’ face on but this time, it was herself she was sorting out. Her fingers were buried deep inside her own body and coated in lube judging by the bottle in her other hand.

“You’d think a Time Lady wouldn’t have this problem but even we’re not meant to go for this long,” the Doctor pulled her fingers out with a wince, “Hopefully only a few more rounds.”

“A few?” Yaz was shocked that the Doctor still had the energy at this point and even more surprised at how drained she suddenly felt at those words. It seemed like they’d already been there for days but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours. Yaz felt a sudden yearning for her exam revision and how orderly the pages had looked with her highlighting. The thought of reviewing those bullet points suddenly seemed comforting.

The afternoon had somehow descended from being some variation of her nighttime fantasies of the Doctor come to life... into something vaguely painful. Whatever the Master was to the Doctor, it was a lot more than ‘best enemy’. It was dawning on Yaz that when the Master had called himself ‘best’, he hadn’t meant most murderous or most cunning, but something else entirely.

With that stinging realisation, Yaz decided wildly, rashly that she needed this to be over as soon as possible for her own sanity and that she was more than ready to do whatever it took. Wriggling her jeans and knickers off, she quickly manoeuvred herself over the Master’s face before the Doctor could react. Poised over the Master’s mouth, Yaz hesitated for a second, unsure if the Master was lucid enough and if she should wait for his next orgasm to check. However, before she could climb down, his hands were on her thighs and he’d yanked her down onto his eager tongue.

“Look at you! Yasmin Khan, you're magnificent,” the Doctor was once again riding the Master’s cock and so, Yaz found herself eye to eye, nipple to nipple and facing an equally naked, grinning alien who was indeed looking at her.

The Doctor had one hand pinching her own nipple and another circling her clit. Like everything else she did, there wasn’t the slightest drop of self-awareness or anxiety in her motions and finally, Yaz could feel her own embarrassment melting away. There was something in the Doctor’s uninhibited smile that made Yaz relax into the moment, and sink a little further onto the Master’s face.

Beneath her, his tongue was making sloppy wet circles as he lapped hungrily at her entrance. Before her, the Doctor’s enthusiasm was catching and Yaz soon found her own hips starting to sway up and down in time with the Doctor’s. Suddenly, the entire situation felt different. Better even. The Master’s tongue was now probing upwards in fierce jabs that made her want to clench and squeeze. Like the Doctor was probably doing around the Master's cock.

With a start, Yaz realised that her own hands, which she had initially been pulled against herself in a tight, defensive gesture, had since drifted down to rest on her own hips. The Doctor’s smile was still encouraging but when Yaz looked again, she thought she caught a glimpse of something else in her gaze that could’ve been mistaken for interest.

When the Doctor winked at her, Yaz almost fell off the Master’s tongue in shock. Almost, because she was grinding down far too hard and her thighs were clamping far too tightly around his face, for that to actually happen. With a flush of arousal, Yaz realised the Doctor had started to pulse faster up and down on the Master’s cock. She’d sped up so subtly that Yaz hadn’t noticed it happening or that her own hips were matching the Doctor’s pace.

With the sensation of heat and hunger rising in her belly, Yaz was hit by a sudden, unbearable thirst as she watched a bead of sweat track down the Doctor’s neck and into the space between her breasts. If she was closer, Yaz might have reached out to touch it but instead, her hand moved unbidden, along her own thighs to press a finger against her labia.

The relief was incredible and yet, instantly morphed into something more irrepressible like yearning and need. One finger became two as Yaz dipped her fingers further down into her own wetness. She let the Master suck hungrily on them for a moment before drawing them back up to circle her clit. Bringing her other hand to play with her nipple as the Doctor was doing to herself, Yaz realised it was a little like touching yourself in the mirror - if the reflection looking back was someone you really admired and who you’d do anything for.

The Doctor’s cheeks were flushed again and like before, her head was thrown back in utter, unrestrained pleasure. This time, however, her eyes were wide open and roving over Yaz’s body. Strangely, the sight of the Doctor staring at her with such intensity didn’t make Yaz feel self-conscious. Instead, she felt more at ease than she would ever have imagined. Basking in the heat of the Doctor’s gaze roaming along her body, Yaz savoured the sight before her.

The way the Doctor’s blonde strands stuck to her flushed cheeks. The pink of her incredible nipples, so erect as she pinched and rolled it between her fingers. The speed at which she was bouncing on the Master’s cock with all her undiminished enthusiasm. Finally, Yaz looked down at what her eyes had wanted to drink in since this began.

The Doctor had two fingers stroking up and down along her labia. The lips were swollen and shiny with her own slick. Yaz couldn’t help but wish she could touch them for herself. Instead, she settled for following the Doctor’s strokes but it wasn’t enough. The urgency was building and Yaz let out a loud, hungry moan when the Doctor drew her fingers back to her clit. The sight of the Doctor's eyes widening as she came with an ecstatic cry finally sent Yaz flying over the edge.

As shockwaves of pleasure upon pleasure hit her, the world faded out until the only thing Yaz could feel was the Doctor's eyes on her and the joyous rush of bliss racing through her body. When she finally slumped back down, she was only dimly aware of the Master’s hips jerking urgently before he let out a groan of aching relief.

Panting and suddenly overwhelming dizzy, Yaz flopped back against the headboard. It was a wonderfully calm minute before the Master bit her thigh, surprisingly gently and she rolled herself off him with a sigh. She really hoped it was over now. Yaz didn't think she could take anymore.

Glancing down at the Master, who now looked utterly ravaged, Yaz was relieved to see how much calmer he seemed. For the first time he was completely still, without any lingering tension or pain. His eyes were closed and he was still panting softly but it was different now.

“Wowza, that was the fastest rescue ever! Dunno how we never thought of including more people,” the Doctor lifted herself off the Master's lap with a sticky squelch and collapsed onto the bed alongside him, “I should’ve let Ryan and Graham stay after all. We could be done and eating biscuits by now.”

Starting to feel like she was at last going into shock, Yaz shifted herself down so she could lay flat in the space on the Master's other side. Her heart was racing and the room felt cavernous. The Doctor was within arm’s reach but seemed a million miles away as she scanned the Master with her sonic screwdriver. As Yaz wondered where on earth that had been, she was struck by the way the Doctor’s face transformed into a delighted, open smile. She seemed to have forgotten Yaz was there.

"There you go. You can get back to plotting to kill me now," the Doctor said. She didn't sound like she was joking but she was looking down at him without a trace of worry.

As Yaz looked on, the Master opened his eyes wearily. He no longer looked like O but didn't resemble his usual self either. All the cunning and malice had faded away and in its place was a worn out man who'd just defied death for the millionth time.

“Thank you,” the Master breathed. Yaz was about to reply when she realised he wasn’t talking to her. His hand was resting on the Doctor's cheek and like Yaz, he was gazing at the Doctor like she was made out of starlight. The only difference was that the Doctor was gazing back.

Feeling awkward and not wanting to show it, Yaz turned away, grabbing gratefully at her clothes which were puddled on the floor beside the bed. Slowly, she got dressed, wondering what the protocol was now. She didn’t imagine the Master was the cuddling type.

“You can leave now,” the Master sounded bored and imperious.

A wave of relief flooded through Yaz. She was sure she’d feel better once she was away from him and she had more questions she wanted to ask the Doctor now that the immediate danger had passed. She was about to suggest they get a cup of tea and those biscuits when she realised the Doctor hadn’t gotten up from the bed.

Instead, she was curled up on the Master’s chest, still naked, with her legs intertwined into his. The Master’s arm was draped over the Doctor’s shoulders in a distinctly proprietary curl. They looked more intimate now than they had during intercourse. They also looked like they’d laid like this a thousand times before.

“Okay. I- I guess I’ll see you later, Doctor,” stuttered Yaz uncertainly. As she stepped hesitantly towards the door, a voice stopped her.

“Hang on a minute, Yaz,” the Doctor said.

“Yes?” Yaz’s heart was doing somersaults.

“Before you go, can you throw us that duvet over there?” the Doctor pointed at a dark purple, fluffy cloud on the floor.

Feeling something ugly starting to twist and bubble inside her, Yaz nodded silently and flung the duvet carelessly over the Doctor’s face, hiding her prickling eyes from view. As Yaz turned away, she caught a glimpse of the Master smirking knowingly at her.

“Bye, human!” he called gleefully as the door swung shut behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me kudos and comments because it will make me smile!


End file.
